Until The End
by E. V. Roslyn
Summary: The survivors of the apocalypse are trying to do just that- survive.


_Four Days... It's been four days, and still no sign of them_ , Stan thought remorsefully. He looked out the window, gazing upon the horrors of the apocalypse just outside. He and an unusual group of survivors found refuge in the Mystery Shack, where they were safe. Thanks to his brother, the shack was protected against the horrifying demons of Weirdmageddon.

His brother...

 _Ford..._

 _... Kids..._

His heart clenched in despair. There was no telling where any of them were, or if they were even alive. Stan looked out the window as often as he could, with the slightest ray of hope that one day, his family would return, safe and sound.

Stan couldn't help but blame himself for all this. He made a promise to Shermie's son and daughter-in-law that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to their kids. He made a terrible mistake getting them in this situation in the first place. He should have just sent Dipper and Mabel home before everything spiraled into chaos. At the very least, he should have waited until after the twins headed home before freeing his brother from the portal. He could have done anything to keep them safe... but he still failed them.

"I'm a horrible uncle," he muttered.

"Mr. Pines?" Came a soft voice from behind him. Stan turned around to see Pacifica Northwest.

The young girl, not any older than his grand niece and nephew, looked at him solemnly. She was one of the survivors that made it to the shack, which they now called the 'safe house'. The apocalypse definitely changed her. She used to be a spoiled brat, from what he could tell, but after being traumatized by the mutation of her father's face, and then having her own mother abandon her, the girl's way of thinking had to change in order to survive. Stan could still see the selfishness in her, mostly when dividing whatever food they could muster, but in this world, he couldn't blame her.

Pacifica no longer wore expensive outfits and make-up. The children that made it here had to exchange their clothes for rags, and everyone in here had to sacrifice luxuries just to survive.

"What is it, kid?" he asked sadly.

She seemed to hesitate, "Just so you know, I believe in them. I know they're out there somewhere, and if I learned anything from the twins... it's that not even an apocalypse will bring them down."

"Don't be so optimistic, Northwest," Stan sighed. "They're young, and we have no idea if they are alone or together. Even if they weren't captured, they might starve to death. They could get eaten by those monsters. They could die, and I'm too much of a coward to go look for them!" He yelled angrily.

His yelling caused heads to turn. A biker Stan learned was named 'Dale' spoke up, "You know why we can't go out there."

"That's right," one of the gnomes agreed. "You'll die out there!"

Okay, so it was a bit of a shock to find out that some of the survivors included several gnomes, a unicorn, a manotaur, and a talking bear with multiple heads, but to be honest, Stan has seen stranger things in this town, so he brushed it off more easily than some of the others.

Stan growled, "What's the point in staying in here, then? Wendy, Soos, Dipper, Mabel, and my brother are all out there! If we do nothing, everyone out there," he pointed at the window, "will DIE! I've been to prison, and this is what it feels like! Trapped inside, not being able to go anywhere!"

"How do you think I feel?" Sheriff Blubbs asked. "Durland is gone! He was turned to stone, and there was nothing I could do about it! He was my partner, and I let him down!"

"And what about my wife?" Another guy added. On his shoulder was his woodpecker wife that was turned to stone. "How am I supposed to bring her back?"

The gnomes and the unicorn started listing the names of their fallen comrades, which led to bickering between the survivors, which led to arguing, which turned into a full-out yelling match.

"ENOUGH!" The manotaur roared. The room grew silent. "Can't you see what's happening? You're losing your minds! If this weirdmageddon won't kill us, then we'll end up killing ourselves. We need to stand like men and get our heads in the game."

That part caught the multibear's attention.

"And how are we going to do that?" Stan asked. "By keeping ourselves cooped up in here? Our only plan is to survive. What will happen when we run out of food? What if one of us gets sick or mutated? What if one of those demon things find a way in?"

"Then we'll fight and defend our territory. Once our food supply runs low, we'll resort to hunting and gathering. I'm creating weapons with what we have," he replied. "I understand that you all have friends and loved ones out there that are either dead or unaccounted for, but we are doing this for them. Once we get our strength back, and we have a plan of attack, then we can fight the demons. Hopefully, we'll also be able to save those that have been turned to stone."

What the manotaur said seemed to calm everyone down. Stan looked around, and he noticed the other girls, Candy and Grenda, sitting close to each other. He knew they were both worried for the twins as well. They all were.

With a sigh, he made his way to the basement. As of now, there was no point in keeping anything a secret anymore. Everyone in the house now know about the real Stanford Pines, they know about the journals, and they know about the portal. He punched in the code at the vending machine. It swung open, and he made his way down. Other than Stan, the only other person allowed down here was...

Maniacal laughter disrupted his thoughts. McGucket was working on some sort of invention. After learning that the crazy old man was involved with Ford's project thirty years ago, he decided to give him permission to work down here.

"How's it going, McGucket?" Stan asked.

"Well, I heard some yellin' over 'bout yonder, and I got my foot caught in a pickle jar, but other than that, I'm just dandy!"

Stan sighed. He admits, he felt a little bad about what happened to the old man, but there wasn't much he could do for him to help fix his mental state. He decided to try something else.

He sat next to him and handed him a photograph, "Here. I, uh, don't know if you would remember this, but if Ford were here, he'd probably want me to show you."

The picture was about thirty years old. In it was a much younger and sane Fiddleford McGucket with a beautiful wife and their infant son. Next to them was another man with a postaxial polydactyly syndrome. This was Stanford Pines.

"This is you and your family," Stan explained. "That's my brother. The two of you used to be best friends, remember? You went to college together?"

McGucket was silent for a while. For a moment, Stan was almost convinced that he was finally starting to remember Ford. That is, until he pointed to the child in the photo.

"Tate," he sighed. Tears rolled down his cheeks and into his hair. "I miss him so much. After he heard that I was beginning to recover, he was talkin' about inviting me over to dinner. But then the madness happened!"

Stan didn't know what to do. He sat quietly while the old man continued, "I went to the ole' fallout shelter in the woods, and I had gotten video recordin's of the eye-bat demons taking people away. They took Tate. I was so sad, I just wanted to forget," he blabbered. "But then I remembered your youngsters, and then I said, 'I ain't runnin' away no more'. That's why I'm here," he finished. "To remember and fight back."

The other man looked at him in shock. McGucket arrived here less than twenty-four hours ago with two sacs full of cans of food and MRE packs. The other survivors seemed to be more happy for the food than McGucket's safety, but after hearing his story, Stan was glad that McGucket was alright.

"So," Stan chuckled, "I guess we both have someone to fight for, then."

"I do remember one thing," McGucket mentioned. "It's blurry, but I remember. A young feller with your name. We was wantin' to do somethin' big. I don't remember what, but it was important. When I asked why, he said somethin' like, 'We're gonna make this world a better place'. That's all I remember from then, but it's somethin'. I think he would have wanted me to do just that. With the world all crazy now, it can't be that hard to make it better."

"That's right, pal," Stan agreed. "We'll make the world a better place, and we'll get rid of those demons once and for all. I bet my life on it. Now, let's head upstairs. Food rationing time's coming up."

McGucket got on all fours and leaped up the stairs like an animal. Stanley ignored this so he could open the door. Once they got back to the main room, everyone else was staring at the door.

"Intruders," the manotaur whispered.

Stan went for the first weapon he could find, an old bat, and waited for the door to open. The other survivors, except for the multibear, who wasn't anywhere to be seen, tried to look as threatening as possible.

He held the bat more tightly in his hand, and let out a battle cry when the door opened.


End file.
